


A Baker’s Dozen

by GreyLiliy



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Children of Characters, Domestic Fluff, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Parenthood, Transformer Sparklings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-16
Updated: 2014-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:49:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23621104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyLiliy/pseuds/GreyLiliy
Summary: Knock Out considers his sparklings while his partner sleeps.
Relationships: Bumblebee/Knock Out, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Kudos: 13





	A Baker’s Dozen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blueskyscribe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueskyscribe/gifts).



> [First posted to Tumblr on January 16, 2014 as “TF - A Baker’s Dozen.” Crossposted to Archive of Our Own on April 12, 2020. Original notes have been kept.]
> 
> Because this RP [with blueskyscribe] that got out of control and landed Knock Out and Bumblebee with a hoard of kids still amuses me. And I felt like describing them all from Knock Out’s point of view.
> 
> And if you’re curious why they have so many kids: Knock Out is a Baby Thief.

They were all asleep.

Knock Out felt no shame collapsing on his bunk, and looking up at the ceiling and venting heavily until he caught his breath. Across the room, Bumblebee was sleeping soundly with his little jets curled in his arms, and one of their kids nuzzled into his side–the red one. Firestreak. Right?

The red sports car groaned and rubbed his eyes. He was a parent. How could Knock Out forget the names of his kids!? Just because there were far too many of them, and just because they named them all in a hurry yesterday because he and Bumblebee forgot the name thing was no excuse.

Knock Out huffed, sitting up. They were all asleep and sprawled about the room in little heaps. Now was the perfect time to sit and focus on remembering who was who while they weren’t moving.

He could do this.

Knock Out took out a data pad to take notes as he went–just in case–and he might as well go about it from oldest to youngest. Also, just in case.

The first one, and the oldest by far since he escaped the stasis treatment (Knock Out didn’t regret throwing each kid into stasis after they were born, despite what you might think–he couldn’t even begin to think about going through pregnancy with a ton of little feet pattering about at the same time! Trauma and Knockdown could judge all they wanted!) his siblings recieved, was Jet Set.

Knock Out smiled. The product of “The Night No One Brings Up Again Ever Under Threat of Death”, Jet Set was a strong, sturdy little thing. He was a miniature little Dreadwing that came up to Knock Out’s waist, dark blue and red optics. Only instead of Dreadwing’s constanty dour expression, he was bubbly and energetic like Bumblebee. He was a cutie, that was for sure.

Though Knock Out dreaded when he learned to fly.

Okay, one kid down and…too many to go. Knock Out sighed. Which one came after Jet Set…was it the orange one…no. No, it was definitely the yellow one, because Knock Out remembered that Bumblebee was excited their first kid had his coloring. Now what was his name? It was an Earth bird that Bumblebee liked…Ah! That was it: Canary.

Canary was Bumblebee’s yellow, but otherwise he was a little replica of Knock Out from the tires on his back to the screen-style optics. The only major difference, was Canary ended up with Purple optics: A blend of both parents.

Canary was the quiet one…and Clingy. The little guy loved to be picked up and held, and Primus help you if he was ignored. Sometimes, when he didn’t think he was getting enough attention, Canary would pretend to be stuck in his alt-mode until someone picked him up and “helped” him transform back to his bi-pedal mode.

It was cute Canary thought he was still fooling Knock Out.

Speaking of cute, the next kid down the line (and the beginning of Bumblebee’s “Baby Fever”) was the little orange one. Creamcicle! Knock Out remembered that one because Bee had to explain what it was five times: Raf’s favorite ice cream. And it was orange apparently. Creamcicle had taken to calling himself “Sweet Stuff” as a nickname, and Knock Out did not blame him.

Creamcicle (Sweet Stuff? Knock Out wasn’t sure which one he was supposed to use) had Bee’s frame with cute little orange doorwings, and shared Bee’s optic style–big, mechanical and blue. It was adorable on Bumblebee, but on the little tiny thing looking up at you from the ground, it was almost dangerously cute.

Creamsicle was the assertive type (he was a sparkling who changed his own name–what did you expect?) and took great joy in ordering around the twins.

Knock Out snorted and tapped in their names. Now there were two he couldn’t forget: Ocean and Blueberry. Two little bundles of trouble, is what they were. Ocean (he was the light blue one with Bee’s blue optics and door wings) and Blueberry (which makes him the dark blue one with Knock Out’s frame and red optics) were the most competitive little sparklings he’d ever seen in his life. If they weren’t arguing, they were wrestling, or trying to one-up each other.

And Ocean’s preference for staying in alt-mode as long as possible, driving around like a little hellion didn’t help much. Why? Because then Blueberry wanted to join in. Knock Out tapped his fingers on the data pad and looked over at them. Ocean was in vehicle mode, and Blueberry was sprawled out on his car top in ‘Bot mode, snoring.

They were cute, though.

Knock Out drummed his fingers on the edge of the pad. Which came next…was it the white one? A little whimper cooed on the other side, catching Knock Out’s attention. He huffed, looking at the little one roll over. The green one–yes! He came after the twins: Little Evergreen.

He was the one who had Bumblebee’s optics–but in bright, Decepticon red. Evergreen was the total opposite of any 'Con Knock Out knew, though. With his door wings continuously pressed against his back, he was quiet and shy. Unlike Canary, he preferred to be left alone, and usually sat on the edge of the room.

Nothing like the next sibling down the line: Snowstorm loved attention. She was white (as you’d guess from the name), and had door wings proudly on display at all times. She used her big, bright blue optics (another with Bee’s optics) to get what she wanted. Which was usually more food.

Snowstorm would go through her ration in a minute, and then demand seconds and thirds before Knock Out could finish passing out the rest of the kids’ food. Ravenous little thing. She was lucky she was so cute.

Knock Out smiled brightly as he tapped in the next name–he knew this one! His frame, his back tires, his claws, and his screener eyes–only they were bright blue instead of red. Knock Out’s little Rosebud, pink and proud. The first of his kids to appreciate the wonders of a nice finish and appearance, Rosebud enjoyed a good polish and looking good.

A little bundle right after his own spark.

Knock Out hummed…who was after Rosebud? Firestreak! Their little red racer who was a complete replica of Knock Out, save for the door wings. Knock Out was fond of that little tyke, but he seemed to only want attention from Bumblebee…ah well. Eventually he’d figure out Bee was horribly guilty of playing favorites, and come see Mommy Knock Out for attention.

Then Knock Out might actually pick up something about his personality other than he wanted to be a Daddy’s boy like Jetwing.

Little Mr. Sticky-Fingers joined the hoard after Firestreak: Shadow Speed. Black paint. Tires on the back. Knock Out’s eyes–in red. Nine out of ten times, he was hanging out with his sister Snowstorm. Knock Out huffed. Shadow Speed had an attitude, and a habit of lifting and stealing whatever he could get his hands on.

Knock Out had yet to find his stash of stolen goods–but, at least he was good enough not to get caught. Talent in something is better than nothing.

Bumblebee disagreed, but that was his loss.

Pointed claws counted down the list–he was almost at the end. All that was left were: The favorites.

Knock Out’s second to last child that he carried, was his personal favorite: Little Noble. Purple, blue screener eyes that matched his Mommy’s, and an adorable pair of door wings on his back. Like Rosebud (and Mommy), Noble appreciated that he was handsome. And he was! Noble was handsome, and loved nothing more than to be polished.

And attention.

If everyone in the room wasn’t looking at him, he pouted and huffed until he got his way. Which meant little Noble spent far too much time pouting. Knock Out sighed, and put a little heart next to his name on the list. Playing favorites got folks into trouble, but Knock Out couldn’t help it.

Spoiled, proud, huffy little Noble was his little darling.

And Jetwing was Bumblebee’s.

Ah, little Jetwing. Knock Out rolled his optics. The end result of Bumblebee’s Baby Fever hitting its highest point of desperation. If Knock Out wasn’t a “Baby Thief” as Bumblebee put it (Knock Out would like to remind him that is not Knock Out’s fault that he was ridiculously fertile and Bumblebee was not), than Bumblebee would have been able to carry one of his own much earlier.

Knock Out still couldn’t believe Bumblebee kept talking him into “One more try! This time I’ll be the one pregnant for sure!” that many times.

But, after Noble–Bumblebee gave up and got desperate. He hunted down Dreadwing of all mechs, fragged him, and came back smug as a bug carrying.

Knock Out didn’t talk to him for a week.

But, that was behind them. Bumblebee finally had a little bundle that got to call him Mommy and he spoiled it rotten. Identical to his eldest sibling Jet Set, aside from being a quarter of the size and sporting blue optics, Jetwing was a little blue jet with Dreadwing’s frame.

Bumblebee was crazy about him. He carried him everywhere: In his arms, on his back, sitting in his lap, didn’t matter. Inseparable. The other kids were horribly jealous and Knock Out was counting down the minutes until one of them physically acted on it.

He wanted to make sure to catch it on film.

Knock Out chuckled, and counted down the list one more time, ah–Last but not least, the youngest (and last–so help him, this was the last one!) and 13th of Knock Out’s Baker’s Dozen of rug rats: Convoy.

Bumblebee’s baby fever eventually worked it’s way around to “Grandpa” Prime. And hey. He had Sweet Rims–if Bee could have a little runaround with Dreadwing, Knock Out could have one with Prime.

He just wished he’d known ahead of time how big a Truck was going to be when he was carrying the little brat around. Knock Out smirked at the giant thing curled up under his berth. Standing straight, he was taller than Jet Set, and was growing more every day. He was a perfectly miniature replica of Prime, if you ignored the red optics and grey paint where Prime had blue. And he was adorable.

Knock Out pat the sleepy little one on his helm and looked over his list. All thirteen down and accounted for.

He tossed the pad on the table and laid back down. Knock Out had better get his sleep while he could.

Before all thirteen of them woke up.


End file.
